It was a tough weekend for Duncan. Not only were there fireworks to deal with (he coped far better than Kerry ever did, but a protector-in-chief still has to worry a bit when loud things happen), but he had a bath that made him go all fluffy. It's hard to be a protector-in-chief when you're fluffy. (Summer haircut coming this week!) So he was flaked out in the yard on Sunday with the remains of a rawhide chewie, just relaxing.
Then the invaders arrived. Every spring we have a pair of mallards that stop by for a daily swim. One year they even laid their eggs in the tall grasses around the pool. We hadn't seen them yet this year until they splashed down right in front of Duncan. By the time we got the camera, they'd finished swimming and hopped out for a quick preening. (By the way, that planter in the background was dismantled by the resident stick-lover. Must find a tougher one to replace it.)
Anyway, Duncan was absolutely fascinated by the ducks. He literally didn't move a muscle the whole time they were here, just stood and stared. I've never seen him so focused! As soon as they flew away, he ran over to try to figure out what they were: